Final Goodbye
by Tragic Ophelia
Summary: Semi-prequel to "What was and What is". Very reflective. R/r, please..


__

A/N: I am working on more of "Falling Again" I promise! And I know that I'm copying that profusely... Oh, well. Here's a short, weird reflective piece. I kinda modeled it after one of the talented Misha's fics (Misha is a Days writer). No plot... I think. Rory's POV. (1st person) Also before "What is & What Was" and I am playing with history here.

I had been walking, well, half running, down the street that day. God, why was I always late for huge meetings? My cell phone started ringing, so I answered it of course, expecting my boss.

"Rory?" asked Charlie Todd, or my fiance, take your pick. We had met while I went to Harvard. I had gone to a club to hear his band, we talked at the bar, he somehow got my number, we started dating... He asked me just two months ago to marry him. 

"Hey sweetie. What's going on?" I asked as I ran into my building and took the elevator. 

"I have a favor for you," he said. "Remember Joey?"

"Joey Witter?" I asked. Joey was one of Charlie's ex-girlfriends, and they were still good friends. I'd met her on occasion, and she was pretty cool. Her husband Pacey was... Pacey had been a good guy, but he had died the year before in an awful hurricane. 

"Yeah. She wants us to come see her in Hartford for awhile. Whenever we're not busy," Charlie said. "I told her I'd ask, see what we could do."

"We have to go to Hartford for the month before the wedding... Would that be okay?" I asked, dashing out of the elevator and toward the meeting room. 

"Yeah," he said. I said goodbye, and hung up. I walked into the room, and took a seat. It wasn't like the other employees could get mad, since I was the editor of the magazine. It was called "Frost" and was a magazine focused on New England. Our offices were in Boston, New York City, Hartford, and one up in Vermont. 

"Okay, everyone. Let's get started," I said. "I have to leave in twenty minutes, but other than that, we have time. Any article ideas?" And with that, I got the meeting underway. I heard about some ridiculous articles, set those reporters straight, then I left. Let Megan handle it, after all, it's her job.

"When did I become such a slacker?" I asked. I walked into the Starbucks just down the street, and got my normal. Everyone who worked there knew me by name, of course. I slipped out of the store and almost collided with someone. After continuing on my way, I saw someone across the street.

__

Tristan.

I took out my cell phone and cancelled my appointment. There is no way I could have taken this easily. I headed back to the apartment we had in Back Bay. I changed into a pair of jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt, and went into the very back of the walk-in closet in the guest room. I pulled out a box, and I walked back out of the guest room, and headed for the balcony. I opened up the box, and pulled out the first object.

Yeah, so I have a memory box. I dated him for a year! Why shouldn't I? Anyway, I pulled out the Chilton Yearbook from senior year. I opened it to a dog eared page and stared at the picture. It was of us, sitting together on "our" bench. I remember the entire thing. It was the day we had broken up... 

The next thing was a pair of tickets. Not from PJ Harvey, but from the Bangles. That had been our second date. It was outdoors in an amphitheatre, and it started pouring about twenty minutes after we got there. I was sick for about a week after that. It was so much fun, though! Whenever I hear "Walk Like An Egyptian" now, I always remember singing it in the rain... Yes, I am a romantic sap, so what?

Next was a box that once contained dark chocolate covered espresso beans. Oh, those sound good right now. The trip to Starbucks was our first date, if it can be called that. Yeah, I guess it can. We had a semi-fight there, with me leaving in tears. Two days later, everything was perfect.

The last thing I pulled out was a flower from our last dance together. We had been at Louise's party, and he gave me a gardenia from the garden. Where else do flowers come from, Rory? Anyway, I had saved it. We had danced underneath the stars to our song, "Crying" by Vonda Shepard. Yeah, sappy song, but after we broke up, I listened to it constantly.

My cell phone rang, and again, I answered.

"Ror, you're okay, right?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I stopped by your office, and they said you had left for your appointment around 10, but hadn't gone back yet," he said. 

"Oh. I'm fine. I just cancelled my appointment and came home. I wasn't feeling too well," I said.

"Okay. Are you sure?" After I agreed, he continued. "I'll see you at home later." I hung up, and instantly felt bad. I had just lied to him! I know that he wouldn't be mad, but I just felt bad. I was spending the rest of my life with him...

Not that I regret it. If I still loved Tristan, don't you think I would've gone after him? Yeah, I think I would've done that. But I don't. It wasn't like this was the greatest love of my life. I have that now. And I'm always going to have it. Sometimes I just like reminiscing, that's all. 

I pack up whatever I took out, then put it back up in it's rightful place. I walk back out to the balcony, and look over the railing. "Time to say goodbye, Rory. You can't hold on to the past forever," I told myself. I took a letter that was in my hands, one he sent and I never opened, and ripped it up, tossing it into the air. Turning back around, I walked inside, satisfied with how everything was. I picked up a piece of paper that had flown in, and read it.

__

Rory-

I love-. 

Too bad I had torn it right there, even though I knew what it said. I threw it away, and settled back into a chair, watching cheesy soap operas. I had finally said goodbye.


End file.
